Shadows Reclaimed
by NightingaleTrinity
Summary: A conflict between Daedra darkened the skies and churned the seas. But now the fallen Nocturnal must learn to live as a human.
1. Chapter 1

_The cold air, mingled with the smell of fresh petrichor were the first things I noticed as I stirred into consciousness. _

_Eyes that were clamped shut in agony of recent nightmares inched open, light pouring inside. The world seemed to be grey, echoing my misery, but as heavy eyelids lifted higher, colours blurred into being to reveal my surroundings._

_The day was in its youngest hours, with a damp, heavy mist obscuring much of my vision. The road seemed to stretch for eternity. The only sign we were not alone was a faint sound of clopping hooves ahead._

_I winced, pain from a heavy bruise on my cheek blossoming – a blow given by the very Imperial that sat, oh so smugly on that horse. By Talos, I wish I could use the very length of rope that bound my hands to throttle the bastard!  
My imagination had already generated this little scenario and I mentally regarded it with approval._

_The headache that pained me lessened considerably with that fantasy, allowing me to attempt to unlock the last hours of my memory. A bright light, probably from being smashed about the head. My horse, Vrangr, lying in a pool of his own blood. My friends… _

'_No! Raelyn! Idue!'_

_Their bodies, splayed on the earth danced into my mind and my last meal made its way up to my throat. Ignoring the pain from a cracked rib, I leaned over, expecting to throw up any second._

"_What… Where am I?" I asked when the bile finally retreated. My voice was hoarse, forced through dry, bloody lips. I wet them quickly and repeated the question._

_A Nord spoke in hushed, desperate tones. "We shouldn't be here, you and me! Damn these Stormcloaks. Empire was nice and relaxed before _they _came along. I could've been halfway to Hammerfell on that horse!"_

_I sighed, resigned to what was to be my fate. Carted off to die. "Who's that?" I questioned, tilting my head to a man, quite obviously noble, with a gag over his mouth._

"_Watch your tongue," a soldier snapped. "He is Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm and True High King of Skyrim!"_

_The horse thief blanched white as the snowy mountains, eyes bulging. "But you're the leader of the rebellion! If they've captured you… Oh gods. Where are they taking us?"_

'_Chopping block, genius,' I mentally barked._

"_I don't know where they're taking us," the soldier muttered. "But Sovngarde awaits. That, you can be sure of."_

_I don't know what amused me more, the thief's expression or the fact the horse had just taken a relatively large dump in the middle of the road. Five minutes later and I could still hear the carriage behind us swearing about the smell._

_Suddenly, the horse slowed, the carriage grinding to a halt._

"_Come on! Get out," shouted the driver, an Imperial officer. One at a time, grimly, we climbed out of the rotting hunk of wood they called a carriage. An axe glinted in the sunlight, blinding me as I stepped towards another Imperial with a scroll._

_The man gazed at us._

"_Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm!"_

_The noble slunk forwards, shoulders slumped._

"_Ralof of Riverwood!"_

_The soldier followed._

"_Lokir of Rorikstead!"_

_The horse thief was literally shaking. His eyes darted to the side as he tensed and licked his lips. I saw what was going to happen seconds before it did. He bolted, dancing from side to side in an attempt to avoid the razor sharp arrows before they pierced his body. But the archers' aim was true, and he skidded across the cold earth._

"_Anyone else feel like running?" demanded a captain with anger, albeit a slight note of satisfaction. Mutely, we shook our heads as one._

"_Give them their final rites," she growled impatiently, waving her hand at a Priestess, who immediately began a drone._

"_Take mercy upon their souls… Redeem their–"_

"_For the love of Talos," interjected a Stormcloak. "Will you shut up?"_

_The Priestess sniffed. "As you wish." _

_Soldier walked towards executioner, placing his head on the block. I turned away, but wasn't able to stifle the sounds of cutting meat and the thud of a head falling into a wooden box._

"_Next!" demanded the Captain._

_I slowly dragged myself forward. After what seemed like eternity, I knelt at the block, gazing at the sky._

_That was when I saw it._

_Black wings in the gloom._

* * *

I dropped into a crouch, lockpick grasped firmly in my hand as I stole towards Madesi's wooden stall. A quick glance over my shoulder told me Brynjolf was still spinning his intricate tale about an enchanted pen that could make anyone it pointed at the owner's personal 'flying monkey.'

"Lads, lasses. This, is exactly what you need."

Rather, it was exactly what _I _needed. A distraction, so I could plant Madesi's expensive silver ring on Brand-Shei, a Dark Elf who owed the 'Organisation' some coin.

By the time I had crept to behind the little shop, my hands were drenched in sweat. What was I _thinking? _I wasn't a thief! I'd never stolen a thing in my life, except a strange-looking key for a shadowy buyer, and that was when I was in serious need of coin. Ever since, the shadows had burned me with fear, and sometimes actually burned me, leaving red marks where the dark tendrils had touched.

Well, it was too late now. Fumbling with the wooden pick, I inserted it with a flat knife into the lock, listening intently as I pushed the pins around. _Snap. _The pick splintered, shards of wood piercing my skin.

Quietly letting out a stream of curses, I reached for another. This time, the lock opened with a dull clunk, revealing a series of jewels, a pouch of money and…

Perfect.

Grasping it brutally, I ripped the ring away from the stand and put it on my index finger. Now, all I had to do was to locate the Dunmer.

There. My eyes narrowed, as I casually walked up behind him, took the ring from my pocket, and YES! Slipped it into his own. My fear turned into relief, quenched like flames dunked into a bucket of ice cold water.

Unable to contain a smile from breaking out, I bowed my head and nodded at Brynjolf.

"Lads and lasses, come and find me later to buy one. Best thing there is!"

A nod and a skip later, he was by my side.

"You did it, lad?" he whispered.

"I'm insulted you doubt me," I sniffed. "I could pickpocket a sack of money from even a thief."

Brynjolf smiled a shark's grin. "Could you really, now?"

In reply, I held up a small brown sack, tipping it upside down to reveal…

"Beans," he completed. "And I noticed straight away. You're awful, lad." Then, "What's that on your finger?"

My gaze held his. "Enchanted ring. For my magicka."

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a scream.  
"My ring!" Madesi was wailing her heart out to a nearby guard. "It's gone! My Silver Ring!"

Brynjolf shoved me between my shoulder blades. "Get out of here lad. Meet me in the Ragged Flagon."  
With that, he ducked down and weaved through the crowd.

"Halt!" shouted a guard as he barged his way through a couple of Argonians. "You have committed crime against Skyrim and her people. What say you in your defence?"

"What?"

I was dumbfounded. How did they know? I left no traces! I was sure of that. Nobody had seen me, unless…  
Glancing at the ring on my finger, realisation sunk in.

I had given Brand-Shei the wrong ring.

"Shit," I cursed, smacking myself in the forehead. "A hundred Septims says you look the other direction. Take it."

A greedy light filled the guard's eyes as he snatched the bag of money I withdrew from my armour pocket, along with the Silver Ring.

"Alright. I'll turn a blind eye this once, but don't expect it again!"

'_Damn you, Nocturnal,' _I mentally growled, resulting in a cold, cruel laugh reverberating around my head. Stupid, impudent Daedra.

Stomping to the city gates, I flung them open, wishing I hadn't been so stupid as to take up Brynjolf's offer, which had relieved me of my treasured ring. And I _definitely _was not going to the stupid Ratway again, having to hold my breath the entire time when I went to fetch Esbern. I had refused to go without Volsung's mask.

As I stepped into the familiar wild, Shadowmere turned his head to look at me concernedly.

"If everyone were like you, there wouldn't be a single problem in the world," I sighed. He snorted, nuzzling my hand, then stiffened.

His hot breath ceased, and his red eyes studied me in disbelief. Baring his tombstone teeth, he bit my bag.

"Guilty," I laughed, producing a juicy red apple, which was promptly plucked from my hand. "Come on, Shadowmere. Let's go home."

* * *

The very walls of Whiterun trembled with the unforgiving gale, the Khajiit caravans outside being reduced to mere blocks of wood and various goods.

The wooden confines of Breezehome were attacked by swirling gusts of wind, threatening to rip them apart. Lightning churned in the atmosphere, smothered with heavy clouds that collided with each other, flooding the night with torrential rain and thunder.

Skyrim's moons, Masser and Secunda were invisible in the darkness that writhed in the midnight sky like millions snakes, hissing and spitting.

A sudden shard of electricity arced down with a brilliant flash, jolting a Nord out of his deep deliberating.

'_It must be Daedra,' _I decided, flipping the finger to thinking and deducing. _'Either that, or it's just a really stubborn, really big hurricane.' _

I had attempted Clear Skies, only to be rewarded by booming thunder, as if the storm was laughing at my attempts. A shiver went down my spine.

Banishing the memory, I sat back on a plush armchair, and propped my head on an arm. Ah, bliss. After weeks of sleeping in itchy bedrolls, and one painful night in chains, even a simple chair was heaven. I sank into the material, and allowed my eyes to close, my grasp on consciousness to weaken as I began to drift…

A cold wind caressed the back of my neck, igniting and feeding a slight spark of fear inside me. "Dovahkiin… Dragonborn…" murmured a dark, ominous voice from behind. I shivered, remaining still,then _snap!_ The sound of teeth clashing together at my ear. Letting out a roar that would do a werewolf proud, I leapt into the fire I was warming my feet by.

Cursing, I hopped out, stamping my cloak repeatedly to quench the embers, jarred awake by the heat and smell of burning bear hide.

"Lydia?" I yelped. "By the Nine and Seventeen! Are you _ever _going to stop that?"

My Housecarl looked at me innocuously, hazel eyes wide with pure innocence as she stuffed a wooden fan into her bag.

"Nope."

Sithis and damnation. The bloody woman.

"I'll tell the Jarl," I threatened weakly. "Him and –" I noticed her frame shaking in stifled chuckles. Growling in indignation, I swatted the last of the flames from my clothes.

"Dinner's ready," she solemnly whispered, blowing in his direction. "Deathbell petals on a bed of oak matured frostbite venom."

Her laughter proved to be infectious; ten seconds later, we were both cracked up, mirth dripping tears down their faces.

Coughing out the last of my hilarity, I exhaled a shaky breath.

"Remind me why I keep you around," I commented, shaking my head.

"Remember last time you went out alone?"

Unfortunately, I did. When I was in my house in Windhelm, Lydia had been cooking a rabbit stew, when she had realised she had run out of potatoes. I, of course, had come to the rescue, and – despite her protests – left alone to buy some.

This resulted in my getting lost through the winding city streets. Naturally I would pick the easiest way to get found. Firing off continuous lightning bolts into the sky, accompanied by torrents of flame.

My mouth opened to retort, a sharp reply already on the tip of my tongue, just begging to be released. I gave myself the satisfaction.

"Yeah, like you didn't chicken out _every time _we went through a portal?"

And I meant _every single time. _Her excuse was that they made her feel funny. Honestly, a Hagraven could come up with a better lie. This included not coming after me in the Apocrypha, saying the Sovngarde portal spat her back out and refusing to let Serana lay her 'filthy vampiric hands' on her.

She blushed tomato red, whilst simultaneously trying muster anger. Her mouth opened to bark back at me…

A piercing, agonised wail flooded my ears. My hands leapt to cover them, and my eyes found Lydia, who had fallen to her knees, also trying to block out the shriek.

Then, after a few seconds, the cry faded, though my ears still ached with its ghost. Warily, I removed my hands to be greeted with blessed silence.

Lydia lay shaking on the floor, gasping.

"Lydia?" I murmured, shaking her gently. She lay stiff and unresponsive.

Sighing, I hefted her into my arms, and carried her into the nearest bedroom. Housecarl taken care of, I strode out of the door, stopping only to grab Morokei's mask and place it on my face. My magicka reserves increased, tingling my palms.

The night air seemed damp, weighing me down. Or perhaps that was due to my lack of sleep. Whatever it was, my legs seemed to be made of lead, and the air of water as I forced myself forward. Almost immediately, a guard ambushed me with questions.

"Dovahkiin! What is it? What hellish trickery caused this night of horror?"

I shook my head. "I don't know, though I would bet Talos' Godhood that it's got something to do with Daedra."

The guard hurled a vile curse at the Princes, before spitting at the ground. "Jarl Grey-Mane would speak with you, Dragonborn," he grunted, putting a hand on the hilt of his sword. "As I believe this classifies as a possible threat to the city. If you would excuse me, I will do my duty as Guard to fair Whiterun."

"Um. Okay." Honestly, how do they talk like that?

Running off to the gates, he unsheathed his blade and stood firm, awaiting orders.

'_Well, here we go again.'_

I groaned inwardly before setting off for Dragonsreach, the rain whipping my face with icy lashes.

'_Come on! One foot after the other.'_

Sweat mingled with water poured down my face, and my hair blew wildly in the soothingly cool wind as I raced towards the stone steps and shoved the huge doors apart.

"**What in the name of holy shit is going on out there?**" I demanded, my voice echoing with a trace of the thu'um as it reverberated around the great wooden hall.

Vignar Grey-Mane stood. "Dovahkiin. I'm glad you could come," he called to me. "Take a seat, please."

I did not _want _to _take a seat please. _My Draconic wanted to kill who or whatever had caused this storm. But of course, my polite side surfaced with a warm greeting.

"Apologies. I forgot myself, Jarl Grey-Mane. Did you hear the cry? It sounded like the Gods themselves were in pain!"

Old Grey-Mane nodded, wearily running a hand through his hair. The beams of Dragonsreach creaked under the force of the water and wind, the doors rattling as the wind beat the building again and again.

"Aye, Siris," he clarified. In that single moment, his age seemed to have gotten the better of him. The grooves on his lined face were caverns, his eyes full of tiredness. Rubbing his forehead, he gestured to the great table and spoke. "Eat and drink what you can now. I have a little task for you."

My eyes gleamed as I surveyed the heaps of venison, alcohol and sweetrolls.

* * *

Two towns and around two thousand damned mudcrabs later, I was beginning to regret my decision. I was completely drenched, miserable and had a stitch in the left side of my stomach.

An hour had danced away, the minutes trickling like sand through an open hand, and I had known nothing but roasted meat, honeyed cakes and fine wine, the latter of which had gotten me to make this stupid choice in the first place.

Well, at least I wasn't far. This 'Twilight Sepulcher' was, according to my map, only mere minutes away now. But it was a tomb.

_Damn _I hated tombs. _Why was it always a damn tomb? _And more importantly, _why is it always me?_ Fetch the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller from a tomb. No problem. Venture into a gargoyle-infested cave to save a stunning vampire lady. Sure thing. Fight a goddamn Dragon Priest at Shearpoint to learn a word of power. Fine. Now investigate the Twilight Sepulcher? NO!

Unless you got me sloppy drunk. That was my greatest weakness, other than destruction-god-dragons and crazy vampire dads, and…

'_Concentrate, Siris,' _I chided myself, kneading my forehead. Besides, I could already see the outline of the cave ahead. Hurrying, I drew Dawnbreaker and ignited Firebolt in my left hand, sneaking to the mouth of the cave. As I crept in, I noticed a…

Damnit. Ghosts. Those buggers were almost as bad as Draugr! Sighing, my challenges began. Twirling Dawn, I advanced silently.

The cave was a ravenous cavern, dark except for the luminous moss that grew on the floor and walls. They muffled my deathly quiet steps further as I sneaked towards him.

These ghosts must have had superhuman hearing, because the second I stepped within a couple of metres, it turned, a spectral blade materialising in its hand. Panic turned to calm as I brought my lessons to the front of my mind, settling into the Aegis Forms. Picturing the series of stabs and slashes. Then I attacked, soundless as a Nightingale, blade swift in my hand.

The ghost swung his sword at my stomach. I leapt into the air, sailing towards his head in a dive. Grabbing hold of it with my shield, I delivered a crippling blow to his knees.

The ghost sank down, though it still held the double handed sword, trying to mortally wound me. It was not as powerful as I expected. Taking two steps back, I drew my bow. Seconds later, a poisoned arrow found his eye.

* * *

I yanked my sword out of the last of the spectral scum. Pathetic. How dare they use our fighting forms, when they are mere ants beneath the feet of a Dovah.

Venturing forward, I glared at the three rocks set in a triangle, poking one. Nothing. Disappointed, I turned to poke another. Still nothing. Feeling for a hidden switch, I pushed my hand under the basin. _DAMNIT!_

Stuffing a hand in the basin, I waited for something to happen. Just silence.

Furious, I turned to leave, but something made me stop. Listening harder, ears straining, my body still as the unmoving rocks, I heard it.

The Song of the Dragonborn, growing ever louder in my head. But it was unusual… It was –

I screamed as pain transcended onto my flesh and mind, like a thousand white hot knives digging to my flesh. Then, it was gone as soon as it came, as if it never happened. The dark pool of blood at my feet rose into the air, forming a circle. No, not a circle! A portal! To Oblivion!

A human shape emerged, then crumpled to the ground. A woman, wearing nothing but tattered rags. I crouched down to shake her, realising she looked strangely… Familiar.

Her hair was loosely hung down her back, with delicate elfish features. But her brow was contorted as if in pain.

Immediately, her eyes snapped open, her mouth spewing a language I did not understand. Holding my palms up for peace, I murmured in calm, soothing tones. Then, with an effort, she spat something that chilled me to the bone.

"Mortal."

I had seen those emotionless blue eyes before. I growled, threw her back and lifted Dawnbreaker to strike.

I looked down at the target, and received a strange surprise. Nocturnal, immortal Daedra, Eternal Goddess of Thieves had passed out by my feet.

'_Come on! Do it!'_

Anyone else would have killed her. _Anyone_. Even the ever passive Greybeards would destroy her. Dawnbreaker ignited, her lust for blood unquenchable. But I was not one of them.

I lowered my sword, coming to a decision. I knew what to do to my worst enemy.

I was going to rent her a room in the nearest inn.


	2. Chapter 2

Sweat dripped down my forehead, my drenched hair forming spikes. Unfortunately, faithful Arvak knew the Daedra for what she really was though her form suggested differently, and refused to come near her.

"Why… Are you still here… If you won't… Help me?" I huffed irritably, shifting the unconscious mass on my back.

The horse snorted, cantering out of reach. I'd tried bribing him with an apple, before remembering he couldn't eat.

"You were… Willing to carry… Serana… Even though… She's a vampire…" I gasped, sucking in air, wiping my forehead with one of Nocturnal's sleeves.

'Oh Serana,' I thought wistfully. 'If only you were here.'

The undead horse was afraid of her, and obeyed her every word. More so than his_ summoner_, he would dance around the Vampire Lady, almost shaking in fear. It wasn't like he could die again anyway.

This perked my curiosity, giving me another reason to return to the Soul Cairn. When I had informed Valerica – Serana's mother – that Harkon had been killed, I sought out the ghost of his previous owner.

The spirit laughed, with an edge of sadness. "He was killed by the very vampire you ended. Harkon Volkihar murdered Arvak. Curses upon him."

Well damn. If only I was still a vampire, this would be so much easier – just threaten the damn thing.

"Arvak! Come here right _now!_"

The horse whinnied and slumped his head, but remained a good few metres away.

"This will only… Take a couple… Of hours… If you carry her," I reasoned. "If we continue… Like this… It could take days!"

But still the dratted horse prevailed, always keeping ahead of my pace. I resisted the ever growing urge to just use Bend Will on him and be done with it.

Frustration turned to anger as I dumped the Daedra on the earth, sitting down to catch my breath. Glancing over, I saw she had not moved, though her body shivered. I shifted over, laying a hand on her arm. It was cold as ice.

"Crap," I groaned, quickly scanning around for firewood. I unsteadily rose to my protesting, painful feet and pointed a finger at Arvak.

"You did this. If she dies, I will pull you out of the Soul Cairn to kill you again. _Do you understand me?_"

The horse looked at me with glowing eyes, but still refused to come within grabbing reach. Almost hissing in anger, I ignited a spark of purplish fire in my hand. Thrusting it towards him, it wrapped around his skeletal form, returning his essence to the Soul Cairn.

I turned back to the God in disgust. Curse my soft heart! Saving Astrid, and now this stupid Daedra. By the Nine and Seventeen! Well, sixteen now…

I sighed, nudging her.

"Wake up!" I insisted softly, as to not attract the attention of any bandits. Her eyes remained firmly closed. Not good at all. She needed warmth, and now. But there was no firewood! Or wood at all, for that matter.

I couldn't give her my armour. We would be defenceless in the face of danger. But what I could do…

Hesitantly, I prodded her. When she remained static, I hesitantly sat beside her, trying to pretend this was _not _happening. Then, my awkward plan unfolded.

* * *

Her dreams were nightmares, replaying that moment. She waited there in the dark, crying for help. Cries that would never be heard. Pain, agonising, wrenching pain that ate at the edges of her sanity. She called to her sister, Azura, and her faithful Nightingales for aid. She called to Jyggalag for mercy, but her pleas never reached ears.

Screaming as tears fell down her face, the pain intensified. Then she felt it, her spirit being torn in two. A voice rang out from the never ending shadows. Shadows that refused to obey their mistress.

"**I curse you, Lady Nocturnal, as you once cursed me so long ago**."

She begged him.

"Jyggalag! I confess! It was my _idea, _but not me who cursed you."

The ancient being, throbbing with an aura of power spoke in a voice of sifting sand.

"**And so you will pay. Though, I shall be kind, as you were not to m**e."

A model of the Skeleton Key floated to her, and her Grey Cowl. "**Two artifacts were stolen from you. Your key, and your cowl. With each one, your power shall increase."**

She frowned. It was too easy.

"**You will be at the mercy of one who hates you. You will come close to death should you pursue this path. You are unlikely to succeed. Be prepared. Now, I banish you from Oblivion, to live among Men and Mer!**"

Then, agony descended once more.

* * *

She awoke, chest heaving for air, a soundless scream upon her lips. She grimaced, or rather tried to, before realising she did not know how to grimace. Flailing about with limbs that did not obey her will, she whacked her blanket on the face.

"Ouch!" it complained, rolling away from her into the snow. Wheezing from the cold, it rose to reveal it was not in fact a blanket but a Nord.

"Glad you're finally awake," it grumbled. "At least you got your beauty sleep."

She worked her jaw and tongue, unsure of what to do. Mumbling sounds came out. Hissing in frustration, she wriggled her fingers and shook her arms.

"Looks like you don't know how to use a body," laughed the man. "I guess you've never had to know, with your ultra-powerful magic and whatnot."

Her lips were like sandpaper. "You," she accused, scrutinising his face. "Thief. Siris."

It wasn't a question.

He sighed, burying his face in his hands. "You do realise, _my Lady, _that I just saved your pitiful life?"

Nocturnal tried growling, but what came out was a gargling noise. She was successful on the second attempt, her throat protesting as she forced out more words.

"Foolish mortal. Take me to Riften and I shall spare your petty life when I am restored." Anger created a bubble in her throat. She swallowed furiously and glared at him.

"Ehhh. No. That's just being ridiculous, Chirp. They could very well–" He was interrupted by a dangerous glare.

Nocturnal couldn't believe what she had just heard. "Did you just call me… Chirp?"

"Yes, Chirp. Get over it. As I was saying, you're not safe in Riften–"

"_Chirp..?_"

He wrinkled his brow in annoyance. "You're as annoying as a human as you were a Daedra. I'd bet my sword that the minute you step into Riften, someone would recognise you. We need somewhere safe." He paused for a moment, apparently deep in thought, tapping his chin. Then, a grin spread across his face.

"Ever lived in a cave?"

The cheek! If only she had been in her true form. She could almost see it happening – separating limb from limb, shadows blinding his vision as she ripped him apart and slaughtered his family and friends in front of him.

"I am a Goddess, you stupid little man," she hissed venomously, drawing a burst of chuckles from Siris.

"Cave it is, then. Now, that damned horse…"

A ball of purple light coalesced in his hand and leapt in an arc to the earth, where it exploded into a sphere. A skeletal horse cantered out, took one look at her and bolted to hide behind a bush. Turning to her, he rolled his eyes.

"Looks like Arvak's going to take some convincing," he sighed. Walking with brutal steps and exasperation in his eyes, he stared into the horse's blazing eyes with his golden ones, grabbing a bone in its ribcage, purring menacing words. She saw it stiffen remaining still, then allow itself to be dragged to the point where she was sitting.

"Get on," he said, motioning to its back. Nocturnal tried, she really did. But her body just wouldn't obey her. A flush crept to her cheeks.

"I… Can't," she admitted.

Siris was paralysed in laughter, hammering the floor with his hands and the flush intensified. She could feel the anger creating a hot pit at the bottom of her stomach. She showed he discontent with a violent glower.

Leaning down, he heaved her up, slinging her on the horse's back before jumping on himself.

"My leg hurts," she complained, trying to shift her weight off the thigh that was plastered to a particularly bony... Bone.

Swivelling around, he grabbed her robes to lift her leg, accidentally ripping them away.

"Sithis and damnation!" he cursed, covering his eyes.

"What is wrong?" she asked, glancing down. "I do not understand."

Keeping his eyes plastered firmly shut, he reached into his bag and withdrew a small clump of wool, which he placed where the cloth was.

Confusion asked many questions, but she was too proud to voice them. Opening one eye before the other, Siris gently lifted her leg by the knee and adjusted its position.

"Happy?" he demanded.

"I am not _happy. _You would think such a thing? I am a _Goddess _that has been turned into one of you mortals."

Her thoughts shifted elsewhere, to the past. She was feared throughout the land, her ever loyal Nightingales. Karliah, Gallus and the swine Mercer. Mercer Frey, who stole her key through another.

Oh, and there was one more. 'Uncle' Sanguine.

_"Want a drink, love?" he would ask. Of course she would politely decline._

_"My dear Sanguine, I know that if a drop of that is willingly brought to my lips, I would be under your command. I'm insulted you think I'm that stupid."_

_He would sit and pout. "What do you want in a God that I don't have?"_

_Spewing laughter, she would reply. "I also know very well you covet my power, and only my power."_

She was so enthralled with her thoughts that she hadn't noticed they'd set off. Not wanting to engage in conversation, she instead gazed at the scenery.

From the perspective of a Daedra, it was immensely beautiful. Nothing compared to her realm of Evergloam, of course, but as a Goddess, she could see the beautiful auras of everything living. It would light up the night like a thousand stars. Tears sprang to her eyes in remembrance of how she used to walk the sky with her sister, looking into the mortals' lives that went on below. How she longed to leap into the clouds, to fly with the Dragons that sailed the air and to swim with the Serpents that glided near the depths of the seas. She could feel her soul calling out to the world, longing to rejoin the shadows of night.

Hot tears spilled onto cold cheeks, and she tried raising an arm to wipe them away. It did not obey, so she sighed, first trying to work the elbow, and then to raise the arm. Finally, she pushed a sleeve to them to soak up the crystalline pearls.

But now she looked with her human eyes, everything seemed so much more lifeless. She could no longer bend the shadows to her will, or flit from dimensions as she pleased. Everything seemed so much more… Dull.

She growled, despair leading to anger and opened her palm. A flickering ball of shadows materialised. A spinning black void.

_'Perhaps not all is lost,' _she mentally smiled, closing her hand.

**A/N: Sorry the chapter was so short! But... More reviews n stuff lead to more updates. Peace out.**

**-G**


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